


bad weather

by TheRaceBegins



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bad Weather, Break Up, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Break Up, Suicidal Thoughts, dont read if suicide triggers you!, poor Charles is a mess in this :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 13:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22178416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaceBegins/pseuds/TheRaceBegins
Summary: Charles woke up to silence. Max's side of the bed was still empty.It had been a stupid argument.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Kudos: 50





	bad weather

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning for suicide / suicide attempts, please do not read this if that will bother you!!  
> would absolutely not want to upset anyone with this!
> 
> this took quite a while to write, it was really hard writing about such sad feelings.  
> lots of references to weather in here!!
> 
> if you are struggling with mental health problems please do try and get help. <3

Charles woke up to silence. Max's side of the bed was still empty.

It had been a stupid argument.

It wasn't Max's fault Charles had placed below the Dutchman in the championship. But he was still angry, angry that his chances at placing in the top 3 had been taken away from him by a series of mistakes, unfair circumstances, and crashes.

Charles was hungry to prove himself, and he felt like all his triumphs had been overshadowed by Max Fucking Verstappen, the 'magic man', the 'wonder boy', it was Max this and Max that and never Charles.

Max's teammates were Pierre and Alex, names that would be forgotten by the end of the new decade. But Charles had beaten his veteran teammate in his first ever season with Ferrari. Charles had beaten the four-time world championship. And Max beat a rookie. Yet Max had beaten Charles. Seb was still Ferrari's #1 driver, even though the idiot German had caused him to retire in Brazil and had harmed his chances in several other races. And it made him fucking angry.

Charles needed someone to blame and that someone ended up being the sleeping Dutchman he'd been kissing and cuddling just hours ago. So the Ferrari driver woke Max up, opened up to him about one of the many things that had been eating away at him.

And when he had finally been honest with Max, the Red Bull driver had gotten angry. Words were said that could never be taken back, things were thrown dangerously close to heads, and Max had walked out.

And fuck, Charles was filled with regret and anger and fear. Max was never coming back. Not after what he said to Charles.

The weather was horrible. Rain hammered against his and Max's- no, just his roof, the wind rattling the window of the modest apartment. Then, a distant flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder.

Almost in a trance, Charles put his shoes on, and then walked outside, feeling the heavy rain hit him. Each drop seemed to be taunting him, beating him down, reminding him that he fucked up.

Charles walked alongside the road, not caring when he stepped in puddles, or when a car splashed him. 

There had been no warning in their relationship. Everything had been going perfectly until that night. Why had Charles been so stupid?

Walking past a café, he looked in and saw happy couples sat opposite each other. Sharing cakes and drinks, sharing smiles, and sharing kisses. The rain didn't faze their relationship. Charles wasn't sure why it bothered him so much seeing people happy and in love.

He just wanted Max back in his life. Everything felt incomplete without his soulmate. Max was his everything.

He stepped in another puddle and looked down at it blankly.

"Fuck you," he muttered to the puddle.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out his pocket, groaning in frustration when he saw it was Mattia Binotto. Declining the call, he threw his phone into the road, hearing a crunching noise as a car drove over it.

Charles walked on, the rain continuing to batter him mercilessly.

It had been a shit life. He'd lost so much, and gained so little. Everything went fucking wrong. He had to work so hard, just to be at the same level as everyone else, and nobody could see. Nobody knew the pain he was in except Max. Max had made everything bearable. And now, once again, his heart was cold and unwelcoming.

Finally, he reached the bridge. After taking a second to feel the rain hit him for the last time, Charles climbed over the fence of the bridge, so that he was hanging over the road below. The wind hit him hard, chilling him through.

Taking a shaky but decisive breath and feeling the cold air fill his lungs for the last time, Charles prepared to jump.

But he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Arrêt!" they called. "Do not jump!"

Charles looked up to see Pierre Gasly running towards him.

Suddenly the rain was coming not from the sky but from Charles' body, the tears pouring down his face. Roars of thunder racked through his body and defiant lightning flashed in his eyes.

Reluctantly climbing back over the railing, Charles fell into Pierre's embrace, clutching him for dear life as he wailed louder than thunder. Pierre said nothing, his eyes sad as he held his childhood friend tight.

The rain continued to pour as lightning made the sky flash violently. Charles was lost for words, all his fears crashing down on him like a tsnuami. He too said nothing, just holding Pierre tight, his own rain coming down uncontrollably.

"Charles," said Pierre gently. "The storm will pass."

**Author's Note:**

> if you or someone you know is struggling:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines - suicide helplines for all countries  
> https://www.mind.org.uk/ - british mental health charity  
> https://www.mhanational.org/get-involved/contact-us - american mental health organisation  
> the storm will pass <3


End file.
